The Lost Agent: Too little, too late
by honeyMellon
Summary: Follow-up piece of The Lost Agent. Ichigo spirals out of control after the Winter War, having lost his powers and his ability to protect his loved ones. Urahara Kisuke finds him and tries to help. Oneshot. Not fluffy.


**It's been more than a month since I updated my stories, I do apologize. I promise I'm not abandoning them, I'm just stuck. My muse is not cooperating. :( One of the ways I try to get my writing mood back is to read other works on ffnet. It usually works, but one side effect is that I can get so absorbed in a story that the emotions stick to me. **

**I read something dark and quite sad today, and thus this was born.**

* * *

"Ngh!"

The sound from the slap seemed thunderous in the small space - a musty, beaten-up motel room that had seen better days. The young man, hands bound behind his back and forehead pressed against the wall, jerked as another stinging blow met his back, this time from a cruel-looking leather belt. A welt bloomed on the already-bruised skin; stark white at first and then quickly turning red.

"You like that, huh?"

Another blow landed. Another jerk and a pained grunt.

"Sick bastard."

This time, when the belt landed, it came away red.

* * *

The store was dark and silent when he eased the door open carefully. Ichigo heaved a quiet sigh of relief. He didn't want to get caught; not immediately anyway. Kisuke would know as soon he saw him, but by then he'd have gotten himself together. Right now he was weak and in excruciating pain, his legs trembling and barely able to keep him upright. The last thing he wanted to do was to argue in this state.

But his relief was short-lived. Bright lights suddenly flooded the kitchen, freezing him mid-stride. Kisuke stepped out from the shadow.

"Damnit, Ichigo." Slate-grey eyes widened when they took in the bloodied clothes and the bruise that was beginning to form on Ichigo's cheek.

The pain in the blonde's voice twisted Ichigo's heart, and for a moment he was overcome with guilt, but anger quickly washed it away. "Leave me alone." He managed three steps before his legs folded under him, and he would've crashed onto the floor if not for Kisuke's excellent reflexes. The older man held on when Ichigo attempted to fight him off. It was over in less than two seconds. Ichigo fell slack in Kisuke's arms, finally succumbing to exhaustion.

When Ichigo came to, he was lying on his own bed, wrapped in layers of warm, comfortable blankets. He shifted groggily and immediately stilled as a wave of nausea hit him. He let a few moments pass, and then tried again. The room spun and he rolled onto his side and retched, emptying water and bile into the bucket next to the bed. After what seemed like an eternity of gut-wrenching pain, the dry heaving finally stopped, and he fell onto his back, out of breath and feeling faint.

Something wet and warm dabbed at the corner of his mouth, and Ichigo turned to see Kisuke kneeling by his side, towel in hand. The blonde was silent, though Ichigo could feel his hand shaking as Kisuke cleaned him.

They spoke at the same time.

"What were you thinking?"

"I'm not going to apologize."

Kisuke looked at him, disappointment and hurt clear in his face. Ichigo closed his eyes and sighed.

"You have to stop doing this," said Kisuke.

Ichigo didn't need Kisuke to tell him how dangerous it was. What he did - seeking release at the hands of strangers who were more than happy to inflict that kind of pain - was risky and stupid. But he craved it every day, _needed_ it to feel alive, and he had no other way to fill that void. Kisuke tried his best, but he wasn't willing to take it far enough.

Not usually.

"Are you listening to me?"

Not unless Ichigo pushed him too far.

"Damnit, Ichigo!"

Ichigo bit back a hiss when Kisuke pounced on him, grabbed his shoulders, and started shaking him. The blonde was seething mad, his eyes burning with fury. Not just at him, Ichigo knew. He knew Kisuke blamed himself; for not noticing the signs earlier, for not coming to Ichigo's aide soon enough. For letting Ichigo slip so far down that he didn't think he could ever return to who he was.

Soul Society's hero was gone. Urahara Kisuke was trying his darnest to bring him back but it was too little, too late.

Ichigo cried out when he was breached. His eyes fluttered closed as a small smirk curved his lips.

* * *

**The End.**


End file.
